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The Other Woman

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Offline bcw8

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The Other Woman
« on: April 26, 2020, 08:04:42 AM »
Megan was having a crazy day at work, but every day, no matter how busy, she took an hour for lunch to herself.  It was one of her rules, to take ‘me time,’ to relax for a little bit, to let her mind unspool.  She needed it to deal with all the stress in her life.  A Cobb salad at her favorite deli, scroll through Instagram as she ate, thinking about Jason - mmmmmm.  Thinking about Jason made her wet.  She squirmed a little in her chair and smiled to herself, eyes still on her phone.  No one she knew would believe she was having a torrid affair with a married man - not Megan!  But oh, she was, and it was deliciously filthy.  The things they did in hotel rooms were so intense, so uninhibited.  That’s why he loved fucking her, she knew;  there was a part of her that would do anything.

The chair on the other side of her small two-person table scraped.  She looked up, ready to smile and say sure, take it, I’m alone, when the person sat down across from her.  Another woman, about her age and size, auburn hair in a loose bun.  Megan blinked.  Her new companion had no food, made no request to share the table, nothing.

“Can I help you?”  Megan said.

The redhead held out her hand, across the table, still silent and unsmiling.  Megan took it, thinking it was a handshake offer.  The redhead squeezed it, hard.

“Hey,” Megan gasped.  “That -”

“Shut up,” the other woman said.  “Listen to me.  Stay away from Jason, bitch.”  She squeezed Megan’s hand harder still.  She was wearing a silk blouse, and as she leaned in, Megan saw her nipples stiff against it.  For some reason, that made her keep her composure.  She clenched her teeth against the stabbing pain in her hand but didn’t cry out.

“Who the fuck are you?” she said to the redhead.  It wasn’t his wife.  A sister?  Friend?

“I’m Geri,” said her tablemate.  She released Megan’s hand, but now Megan felt her foot run up her ankle, spike heel angled in.

“I’m the other other woman,” Geri said.  “So he won’t leave his wife, not for me; certainly not for you.  I get it.  Fine.”  She dug the heel into Megan.  “But I won’t share him with you, too, you slut.  If you see him again, I’ll know it, and I’ll make you pay.”  She stood and left, without a backwards glance.

Megan breathed deep, and flexed her hand.  The entire encounter had gone unnoticed by anyone else in the deli.  She gathered her things and walked to her car.  Her nipples were hard as little stones rubbing against the lace of her bra.  She found her phone in her purse with her free hand, dialed him.  He answered, which meant he was alone.  “Meet me at the hotel,” she said, and hung up.

“Jesus.” Jason gasped, when he could speak at all.  Megan straddled his hips, her hair in her face, her breasts swaying over him. 

“Geri,” she said.  She saw the surprise in his face when she said that name, and that was enough.  “Fuck you, Jason,” she said.  She slapped him hard.  He caught her arms, held her, promised her she was the only one.  Well, other than his wife.  She got dressed and left.

The parking lot was mostly empty, yet a car was parked next to hers.  She saw Geri in the driver’s seat.  The window hummed down as she approached.

“He told me he only wants me,” Megan said.

“He told me the same thing yesterday,” Geri looked at the hotel, then looked back at Megan.  Her mirrored sunglasses obscured her eyes.  “I warned you.”

“Fuck you,” said Megan.  “Fuck your warning.”  It all felt unreal to her.  Two hours ago, she’d left work for lunch.  Now she stood in a hot afternoon asphalt lot and stared at the woman who was fucking her lover.  Unreal . . . but exciting.  Isn’t that why she’d taken up with a married man in the first place?  She pivoted, walked around the front of her car, and drove off.

She abruptly pulled into an alley a block away.  She unsnapped her slacks and pushed her hand down into her panties.  She saw Geri’s face as her finger parted her wet pussy lips.  She thought of Jason’s cock; pictured Geri watching them fuck.  She’d cum twice while riding him, but this orgasm hit her harder. 

Megan saw Geri everywhere now.  She sat on the hood of her car and watched Megan leave work.  She was at the mirror in the ladies’ room when Megan visited it while out for dinner with friends.  She passed her on the sidewalk, staring dead-eyed at her as she did.  After a week of this, Megan was almost glad to see Geri slide into her place across her small table at the deli.

“You need to go,” Megan said.

“He’s still fucking you, he’s still fucking me,” Geri said.  “One of us has to go, I agree.”

Megan had worn her best lingerie beneath her work suit today.  Was it because Jason might text her?  Or was it for this?

“You said you’d make me pay,” she said.

Geri smiled.  “You’re sitting there thinking you can win,” she said.  “You’re no match for me, bitch.  Little Megan, I bet you’re a limp fish in bed.  I’m the one who milks his cock dry, not you.”

“I -”

“Shut up!”  Geri leaned back in her chair.  Her blouse neckline gaped open enough for Megan to see her cleavage, and the edges of her bra.  “There’s a motel on Dawkins Road, outside of town.  They have individual cabins.  It’s not the kind of place you’d take your family, but you might fuck your married lover there.”  Her eyes glittered.  “And it’s a perfect place to fight the other woman,”

“You want to fight me,” Megan said.

Geri caught her lower lip between her teeth.  They were white, and sharp.  She nodded.  “I want you dead,” she breathed.  She stood.  “Cabin Twelve,” she said, and dropped an old-style room key with a tag on the table.  “Shall we say two o’clock?”

***********************************************************************************************
Megan fought with herself over what to do.  Should she call the police?  Tell Jason?  Ignore the challenge?  Not the last one.  She couldn’t ignore it.  It was in her brain and it wormed through every neuron now. 

She sat in her car outside Cabin Twelve until 2:15, then went in.

“Hook the chain,”  Geri said.  She was in a chair against the opposite wall, but the pose she struck could hardly be called sitting.  She reclined, her thighs spread, one long leg over the chair arm, and one angled toward Megan.  She wore black: stiletto heels, stockings mid-way up her taut thighs, a bra that cupped and displayed her breasts, thin panties.  She had her hand in those, languorously stroking her clit.

Megan clicked the deadbolt and set the chain.  The cabin was bigger than you might expect. There was open floor space between the queen be, and the small desk.  There was the chair Geri occupied, a mirrored closet door across from the outside door, a coat hook on the wall to her left.  The curtains were drawn.  No other units were close.  Very private.

Geri stood, her hip cocked, waiting.  She didn’t ask if Megan had come alone, or if she’d told anyone where she was going.  She knew the answers.

Megan unbuttoned her blouse, slowly.  Her bra was a light sky blue, very lacy.  She trailed her fingers over her stomach as the shirt fell open.  “What are the rules?” she asked.

Geri shook her head, her eyes mocking now.

Megan unzipped her skirt and let it fall.  Her panties, the matching set to her bra, were cut high on her hips.  Her legs were bare.  She wore her highest heels, black like Geri’s.  It was easy to see why Jason wandered.  Once the office suit was gone, Megan’s body was a temptation for any man.  Her ass was round but firm.  Her arms and legs were toned, feminine muscle.  Her stomach was flat and hard.  She took a deep breath, and her breasts swelled in their cups.

Geri was just as tempting, if not more, due to her arrogant insouciance.  Just from the way she stood, any man would immediate picture fucking her.  She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra.  Her pale breasts were perfect, pink-tipped spheres, the nipples Megan had noticed on their first meeting jutted stiffly out and up.

“The rules,” Geri repeated softly, “are for you to take off your bra too, and fight me.  I didn’t think you’d show up, Megan; I really didn’t.  Now that you’re here - I have to end you, you weak and worthless cxnt.”

Megan slipped her straps off her shoulders.  She couldn’t pull her eyes away from Geri’s nipples.  Her own pink nubs emerged, achingly hard, as she unclasped her bra and dropped it.  She felt the same surge of excitement, of arousal, that she felt when Jason fucked her hard, bent over whatever was near, his cock pounding into her.  She ran her hands over her breasts, out in the open, just as good as the other woman’s.

It took them two long strides to clash in the center of the room.

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Offline deity17313

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Re: The Other Woman
« Reply #1 on: April 26, 2020, 11:12:45 AM »
Any clue who the wife is? And good start bc
« Last Edit: April 26, 2020, 11:13:04 AM by deity17313 »
Ddot

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Online JT Edson

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Re: The Other Woman
« Reply #2 on: April 26, 2020, 01:57:03 PM »
Holy hell. This is hot! My blood is pumping already and this is the first part!

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Offline bcw8

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Re: The Other Woman
« Reply #3 on: April 27, 2020, 08:07:27 AM »

Geri seemed to know how secretly proud Megan was of her breasts.  Screaming at her, she savagely attacked them.  Megan was stunned by her ferocity.  Geri’s hands were crushing her, fingers twisting and tearing her breasts, jerking and dragging them.  Megan staggered back, into the wall.  Geri jammed her breasts up and together at the base of her throat and then ripped them back down, her nails slashing Megan’s fair skin, then dragging her breasts to the outer extremes of her chest by a grip on her nipples.

“I can’t stand you fucking him!” the redhead screamed.  “You don’t deserve him!”

“And you do?!” Megan shrieked back at her.  “You’re no different than me!”

She had to fight fire with fire.  She stabbed her thumbs into Geri’s breasts, driving her nipples down into the center of her globes.  Geri howled in pain and the wildness of the sound thrilled Megan.  She lunged off the wall, shoving her rival stumbling back across the room, slapping Geri, her face, then her tits.  Geri’s face was pure hate.  For a split-second, Megan saw the same thing in her own face as Geri twisted and used her momentum to smash her into the closet door mirror.  It cracked in a spider-web as Megan’s forehead hit it.

Geri twisted again, flung Megan on the bed, then landed on her back a second later.  Now she dug her fingers into the muscles of Megan’s ass.  Megan smelled her own blood as knifepoints broke her skin.  Geri flipped her over and split her legs wide, so wide Megan thought surely something in her groin would tear.  Her head and shoulders were off the edge of the bed now, her hair dangling to the floor.  Geri’s hand hammered her soft blue panties, punishing her pussy.  The bed gave with the blows, but Megan moaned with pain.  Geri’s aim for her swollen clit was perfect; she hit it dead on with each strike.

Then Geri dragged her back to the center of the bed, attacked her breasts again.  Geri’s blue eyes burned into hers with loathing and, worse, contempt.  Desperately, Megan clawed at them - anything to escape.  She hurt her, but not enough.  The redhead screamed at her.  Her rage was spiralling out of all control.

Megan went into the mirror again, and this time it shattered.  Geri dragged her across the room, and rammed her bloodied face into the desktop.  Drops spattered on the sad stationery there.

Geri was too strong.  Megan tried to fight but nothing worked.  Geri had an answer for everything she tried.  She broke Megan, her body but more her mind, relentlessly hurting her.

Megan lay on the scuffed carpet, sobbing submissively.  Her face and tits were battered, her wrists were trapped, her light blue panties twisted around them.  Geri had her bra, too.  She twisted a handful of Megan’s hair and made her knee-walk to the coat hook on the wall by the door.  Geri wrapped the bra around her neck and pulled, lifting Megan to her toes, and whispered in her ear.

“Jason likes to choke me while he fucks me, Megan.  He told me you won’t let him do that.  But, ohhh, it feels good, Megan!  I promise, it does.”

The fabric of the bra stretched, just enough.  Through the haze, Megan saw the other woman’s eyes, glittering with satisfaction as she raised her fists again.  Oh god, it did feel good . . .

*******************************************************************************************

“Auto-erotic asphyxiation,” Daniels said.  “We get them, in places like that especially.  Evidence of, ah, orgasm, no semen.”

Woodward put his feet on his desk.  “With the place trashed like it was?”

“Desk clerk says she checked in alone.”

“That doesn’t mean shit.  ID?”

“License in her purse says Geraldine Megan Lewis.  The photo is her.  Red hair, blue eyes, 25 years old.”

“She was beaten, though.  Come on, Daniels, she didn’t do that to herself.”

The assistant medical examiner was there too.  He’d seen it all in his twenty-five years.  “She could’ve.  The bruise marks fit her fists.  The scratch marks are all places she could reach.  In my opinion, it wasn’t a man, at least.  The bruises are different in a domestic.”

“So she went there, had a fight with another woman, lost.”  Woodward said.

“So we could access her emails on her phone.  We know already she was having an affair with a married man,” said Daniels.  She held her hand up to stifle her partner, his mouth open already in triumph  “He has an alibi.  So does the wife.  It’s not them.”

“So some other woman.  Jesus.”

Daniels sighed.  “She had a medical history.  The cop version is that she was fucking nuts, Woodward.  She was a masochist.  She liked pain.  I talked to the lover, too.  He said she would, like, turn into a completely different person in bed sometimes, and sometimes she’d just dissolve in guilt about being the other woman.  She wanted him to choke her.  She scared him.  That’s why he ended it.”

“Still, no one is that nuts.  What, she beat herself up, then choked herself?  Come on.”

Daniels had her clincher.  “The door was locked and chained from the inside.  The main window doesn’t even open.  The bathroom window was locked from the inside.  We had to bust the fucking door off its frame.  And she probably didn’t mean to kill herself - these things are accidents gone too far.”

Woodward finally gave up.  It cleared the case, so what the fuck.  No one was going to push this; Geraldine had no family, no real friends. 

The assistant ME was retiring tomorrow.  He officially did not give a fuck; he was old and alcoholic and sick of this shit.  If the cops were satisfied, why shouldn't he be?  That some bruises looked post mortem?  Guesswork, part of his job, never sure.  And, after all, the fact that her hands were tied behind her back could be explained too - these young women, they were like gymnasts;  she did it and then rolled up and pulled them back under her feet.  Could’ve happened.

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Offline deity17313

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Re: The Other Woman
« Reply #4 on: April 27, 2020, 01:14:20 PM »
Very nice bcw, kinda feels like a  60s-70s crime movie with some HBO's the wire melted in. On another note.
Finally found a crazy redhead on Sydneys level ei? Haha
Ddot

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Online Wives Fighting

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Re: The Other Woman
« Reply #5 on: April 28, 2020, 02:26:24 AM »
Oh poor Megan. Wonderful fight. Kinda should be turned in to a movie. Awesome story.
"Whenever women catfight men think it's going to turn to sex" - Yasmin Bleeth

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Offline Rocko23

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Re: The Other Woman
« Reply #6 on: May 27, 2020, 02:57:30 AM »
Ah this is intriguing not as hot as some of your other fights but a thoughtful ending. Am I right in thinking that Megan actually won the fight?

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Offline coachzzz

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Re: The Other Woman
« Reply #7 on: June 04, 2020, 07:24:30 PM »
Very clever.   As I go through more and more of your stories, it does appear that sometimes . . . sometimes . . . what we see in the narrative is not actually what is going on.   

Bravo.   Keep doing what you are doing, as long as you enjoy doing it.